


Steel and Surge

by brownbot5k (orphan_account)



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Service Kink, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:23:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/brownbot5k
Summary: Giovanni helps out an old war buddy, and in exchange, he asks Lieutenant Surge for a service only he can provide.





	Steel and Surge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coelasquid](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=coelasquid).



> Kelly Turnbull has been a professional inspiration to me since… gosh, 2010. I met her in person once and gave her fanart of Tigris, and she was incredibly friendly and kind, even though she was sick and probably wiped. She made a few little comic strips about Lt. Surge and Giovanni [here](https://twitter.com/Coelasquid/status/1087291617902379009). It’s not my fandom, not my pairing, but part of Kelly Turnbull’s power as an artist is her ability to make me care. Her work has HEART.
> 
> I heard she was having a hard time lately, and well, I was having a bad day too, and so I wrote this. I hope it makes your day a little better, Coelasquid! (And if not, I hope it at least didn’t make it worse.)
> 
> This story takes place immediately after the fourth strip. You definitely want to read those for context first.

Giovanni’s voice was a steel purr.

“That’s right… just like that…”

Surge had asked what he could do. Sure, they were old war buddies and hook-ups, but putting Surge up like this had been above and beyond the call of duty.

Surge had expected Giovanni to say, “nothing.” Why wouldn’t he? Giovanni clearly wanted for nothing, materially, while all of Surge’s earthly possessions (along with the Pokéball containing his aging Raichu, Taser) fit in a backpack. Giovanni had all the wealth, manpower, and pleasing company he could ever want.

But Giovanni hadn’t said no. Instead, he’d only raised an eyebrow suggestively—and not in the way that usually implied.

Surge had laughed. “You have company men for that.”

Had Giovanni wanted to hire him, it would’ve come up first thing, and it was one of the reasons Surge had waited so long to visit. He hadn’t wanted a pity offer, hadn’t wanted to fail at something else, and most of all, hadn’t wanted to be tempted. For the sake of shared history, Surge had tried not to look too hard into Giovanni’s business, but he knew enough to be certain he wanted no part of it. Giovanni was smart, gutsy, charismatic, and driven… but he was also dangerous, and Surge felt safest at the edge of his orbit, as just hook-ups and old war buddies. Desperation had a way of weakening inhibitions, though, and Giovanni was persuasive.

Judging by his chuckle, though, it looked like they’d been in agreement.

“No,” he’d said, “that’s not what I want you for.”

So there _was_ something, and Surge had been able to make a pretty good guess what. And he’d needed to show his gratitude in some way. For the friendly face and familiar hands and the first hot shower he’d had in too damn long. So he’d leaned against that little bedside table that was probably made of mahogany and _definitely_ cost more than he’d made in the prior year, still dressed in that damn towel, and said, “C’mon, Gio, this is important to me. There must be something I can do for you.”

Giovanni had given him a sidelong look. “Well, put that way, there is something…”

Which was how Surge found himself naked in Giovanni’s lap, cock in his hand, watching him smile in that steel-and-razor way that’d scatter half the toughs in Viridian City.

But not Surge. He’d known Giovanni too long and through too many hard times to be truly scared of him. Aware, yes; wary, most definitely; but scared, no. Surge suspected that Giovanni liked him (or at least found him interesting) for that. Maybe it was part of the attraction—the one man who was neither underling nor enemy, lackey nor leverage.

Giovanni’s free hand kept roaming over Surge’s newly-shaven chest—because of course Gio hadn’t stopped at the neck, especially once Surge had admitted liking it. Not that Giovanni had needed to be told, but that’d never stopped Surge before, and the Persian slow-burn smile it’d inspired had made it worth it, along with the, “get your shirt off.”

For anyone else, sharing a room with Boss Giovanni and a straight razor would’ve been terrifying. For Surge, though, it’d been hot. The glide of the razor over his skin, the sharp edge of risk mitigated by Giovanni’s laser focus and steady hand, ready to take as long and go as slow as the job needed… once something got his attention, it was the center of his universe. Really, with that ability, it was no wonder Giovanni had a squad of men ready to die for him. And sure, why not admit it, Surge had liked the attention. It had been a long time since anyone had taken care of him.

Speaking of which…

“C’mon, Gio,” Surge panted. “At least let me get you off first.”

“Mm. No.” Giovanni was hard, Surge could see and feel it in those custom-tailored slacks, but damned if it showed in his face. He was in the straight razor zone, totally focused on the task.

“But—”

“You asked me what I want. _This_ ,” a long, slow stroke, “is what I want.”

And god, it’d been so long  since he’d been the sole focus of anyone’s erotic attention, since he’d felt  _worth_ it . Surge couldn’t resist hitching into the grip, biting his lip, and he saw the gratification in Giovanni’s face,  an infinitesimal shift that  proved he wasn’t lying, that made Surge’s cock twitch and spit in his hand.

“That’s right,” Giovanni said, and now the heat was just barely audible in his voice under the steel. “Like that. That’s good…”

Too many long nights, too many failures, too much of civilian life feeling alien and unfamiliar. But this,  _this_ he knew. This was something he could do, someone he could please.  Just for tonight, maybe he could forget everything else. He could—

“Let go, Surge.”

Surge laughed breathlessly. “You keep talking like that, I won’t last long.”

And there was that voice, the one men would kill and die for. “Did I say I wanted you to?”

Surge shuddered as the heat surged through him.

“I know what you’re like.” The hand was moving faster now, and Giovanni’s voice was getting just a little rough. “Always coming last, making sure everyone’s taken care of. You were like that in the field, and you’re like that in bed.”

Surge was thrusting freely now, curled over Giovanni, too tall to comfortably bury his face in Giovanni’s shoulder but trying anyway, trying to bite back the noise and failing.

“Half my men would do this without me needing to ask. But you,” and Giovanni laughed, molten and overpowering, “this is hard for you. And I want you to do this for me  _because_ it’s hard for you.”

Lightning was sparking up Surge’s spine now, and Giovanni was watching him with that laser focus and slow-burn smile, and Surge couldn’t help plowing forward, trying to grind against the steel in Giovanni’s pants, only to be shoved back.

“Not yet.” Harsh, sharp— _tempted_ . “Let go, Surge. Let go for me.”

Surge came with a gasp. Giovanni kept stroking him through the aftershocks, breathing uneven.

“Good. That’s perfect.”

Surge shivered and went limp, panting. Giovanni purred contentedly and hungrily.

When Surge had his breath back, he raised his head and grinned at Giovanni. “ _Now_ do I get to get you off?”

Giovanni swallowed. “On your knees.”

Surge dropped down immediately.


End file.
